Good food and conversation at Kuala Lumpur’s Little India
Brickfields in Kuala Lumpur is a must for anyone who appreciates good subcontinental street fare.
Cities around the world are often famous for precincts dominated by ethnic culture and food — think mini Vietnam in Melbourne’s Collingwood, Little Italy in New York, Chinatown in San Francisco or Greek Town in Chicago.
But Little India in Kuala Lumpur? It’s well-known to locals, of course, but off the radar for many tourists. A microcosm of that populous country but more accessible thanks to cheap Air Asia flights, you can be at the Malaysian capital in just eight hours’ flying time. Then, from the airport, your high speed train or express bus will drop you at KL Sentral, the city’s major transport hub. And really, if it’s authentic Indian cuisine you’re salivating over, your best bet is to stay right there.
First, no matter what your agenda in Kuala Lumpur, KL Sentral — as the name suggests — gives you the option of reaching anywhere by monorail, KTM train or taxi (if you don’t mind traffic jams).
Second, you’re on the doorstep of Little India, otherwise known as Brickfields. It’s just across the road. Walk 110 metres, and you’re in deepest Kerala or Tamil Nadu, with the usual assortment of temples devoted to various gods. The smell of incense hangs heavily in the air, mixed with the spicy tang of curries, wafts of naan bread cooking on charcoal stoves and the more subtle fragrances of coconut oil and ghee.
Then there’s the sheer mass of humanity. To a large extent, you could be in the backblocks of the subcontinent where people are out on the streets day and night engaged in voluble conversation, buying marigold and jasmine decorations for the temple gods or indulging in their favourite pastime … eating. You could call it the Village Ghee Club.
Little India today is an area of about 2 sq km. Back in the 60s, when I first visited, it was one lonely street called Jalan Brickfields, slightly outside the KL city limits and, for a visitor, a rather adventurous outing ... unless you could find an Indian taxi driver to take you there and recommend one of a few basic curry shops.
Now, there are air-conditioned indoor places, or tables with plastic stools streetside for better people watching. Food is displayed in big containers of curries (veg or non-veg) and there’s an expert bread-man in the window making delicious naan, parathas and, my favourite, masala dosa, the thin, crispy rice pancake traditionally filled with spiced potato.
Next up, a thali, or platter, usually a round metal tray containing dips to be eaten with fresh naan or chapatti bread, washed down with a sweet, salty or mango lassi.
There’s more, much more but after this sub-$3 meal we’re feeling like overstuffed couches and are ready to leave — at least until the next table of friendly Malaysian Indians invite us to sit and chat.
Now, Indians are great talkers and like to indulge in the art of conversation about every subject known to mankind, on which they have strong opinions. Our chat covers politics, religion, cricket, personal details (no holds barred) and why we are in KL. For the food, of course.
Fortunately our hotel, the hip new Aloft KL Sentral, is a short walk away and we’re able to stagger back to the rooftop bar and swimming pool, a great way to wind up the evening. And watch Little India in the streets below, buzzing with life.